


Changing Me

by hktk



Category: Kamen Rider Drive
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Despair, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hktk/pseuds/hktk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Shinnosuke Tomari and Gou Shijima have lost something very important to them. They handle it in very different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WHO Stole Shinnosuke Tomari's Smile?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before Surprise Future came out - so just treat it as a canon divergence, got it? It's set post-40 + pre-41, but that's just the beginning. Everything else after the end of 40 is completely new and won't follow the series at all. 
> 
> Needless to say, this'll have spoilers for everything leading up to 40, but none for Surprise Future (unless you're, like, really reading into it or something). 
> 
> Edited by my pal, Nitro.

The clock’s ticking somehow drowned out what everyone was saying. Kiriko tried to pay attention to the clock—focus on it so hard that the numbers mixed together, blurred with one another—but she had a hard time reading it. The only thing clear to her was that Tomari was late. Again. Rolling her lip between her teeth, she glanced over her shoulder at his desk; surprisingly clean, a small vase filled with a singular, white flower made its home on the top, surrounded by a few of the Shift Cars.

Looking at such a display filled Kiriko with undeniable sorrow and dread.

“...fact of the matter is, Kyu—” Lt. Otta’s voice made her jump, and she snapped her head back around, almost as if she felt ashamed for having turned to look in the first place. “—these are children’s toys!”

“So?” Kyu defended himself, holding all six of the plushes he had brought to work earlier that day close to his chest, shielding them. “You wouldn’t understand!”

“What’s there to understand, huh?” Rinna chimed, pursing her lips, hands on her hips. “You’re being _way_ too deep about a children’s show. Way too invested.”

“Coming from the woman who owns more Precure merch than a nine-year-old girl!”

Rinna gasped, reached for one of the dolls. “You take that back!” Genpachi took a belated step back, so as to avoid the scientist’s wrath, and didn’t quite make it, stumbling into the Chief’s desk.

“Now, now, everyone.” The Chief had had enough, standing up. Tearing his eyes away from his phone, he waved his other hand, circling the desk. He slipped his phone into his pocket and put one hand each on both Rinna’s and Kyu’s shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with a little fun! Little Kyu is just...embracing his inner child! You, too, Rinna!”

“But she—”

The door opened. Kiriko’s eyes wandered, leaving the petty conversation behind her; Tomari kept his head down, shut the door behind him very quietly, like he was trying to make his entrance as unnoticeable as possible. He went straight to his desk, stopping when he saw the vase, then shook his head. He pulled his chair out and sat down, pulling out a few papers very neatly, and getting to work without ever disturbing that vase.

“Right, Tomari?” The Chief had walked up behind Kiriko without her noticing, and she jumped for the second time within ten minutes. When Tomari didn’t answer, the Chief repeated, “Tomari?”

He looked up at that, blinking his eyes in question, his every movement sluggish and heavy as if he were still partially asleep. “Huh?”

“Nothing wrong with having a little fun with kids’ toys, right?” the Chief echoed himself from earlier. He nodded down at the Shift Cars near the vase.

Tomari’s eyes drifted back down, head turning even slower as he followed what Honganji was getting at. “Oh.” A very long pause. “I guess.”

Silence hung over all of them. Kiriko bit her lip again, wondering if she should say something; in the end, she was unable to, keeping all of her thoughts to herself. Tomari had seemingly dropped the conversation entirely, pencil scritching quietly against the paper as he wrote, hand heavy. The Chief sighed once, then went back to his chair, plopping down in it, opening the right hand drawer, looking at something that Kiriko couldn’t see.

Still, though, the suffocating silence hung in the air. Just as Kiriko felt as if she was going to choke on it, Kyu spoke up from behind her.

“I guess he’s still not doing any better…”

Kiriko felt Rinna nod behind her before all three of them moved back to their respective desks. Genpachi mumbled something about going to lunch already before taking his leave, and Rinna soon followed. The only sounds in the room, then, were the clacking of Kyu’s keyboard and the scratch of a pencil.

It had been nine days since Shinnosuke Tomari last smiled.

Kiriko had noticed the changes right away. Even now, when she stole a glance over her shoulder again, he slumped—more so than he did when he was slacking off. His movements seemed calculated yet tired, as if he were running on autopilot. He would rarely say anything, and perhaps most shocking, was never the first to jump out of his seat when there was trouble anymore.

She had been there, too, when the incident happened, those long nine days ago. Tomari looked distraught and miserable—a look so sorrowful and lonely that it surpassed the look he had made the days after Hayase’s accident. A hard lump made its way down her throat from the pit of her stomach, and since then, she hadn’t been able to say anything about it to him.

Desperately wanting to comfort him, though, she had kept a close eye on him. Tomari often bounced back from things, but she feared that this was something that would be hard to counteract with just a strong will. In fact, with the way things were looking right then, when _would_ he bounce back? When would he perk up and be the Tomari she knew and loved?

Even if he never went back to that old, carefree, lazy Tomari, she would be there for him and not mind one bit.

That ticking of the clock drowned out everything again. She turned her head back around, trying to focus on her own work to no avail. At the end of the day, as Chief got up and left (he even accidentally shut the lights off, giving a quick and awkward, “Sorry!” before turning them back on and truly leaving), she had barely written anything down. By this time, she had noticed, without the clacking of Kyu’s keyboard and Honganji’s occasional huffs of dissatisfaction at his hourly fortunes, that Tomari’s pencil had stopped writing as well.

They sat there, and she listened to him breathe carefully.

The clock suggested it was a little past seven at night the next time she looked at it. How time had passed. She gathered her things slowly, deliberately passing more time, hoping desperately that Tomari would move and do the same; but he didn’t, and she stood and crept over to the door, pausing at the few steps with her back turned to him and her paperwork in her arms, coat snugly around her shoulders.

“Tomari,” she began, clearly about to speak to him, but the thought was cut off when she heard quiet sobs. The files fell from her hand, lost to the cause of turning on her heels at attention, if only because this was the first time since the incident that he had _cried_. Approaching him slowly so as to not startle him, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder; regardless of her intention, he jumped in his seat, and he pulled himself back. His eyes seemingly focused on the singular flower on his desk, and hers did the same.

She cleared her throat and spoke again: “Tomari,” and she paused, still at a loss of what to say or do because what _could_ she say or do? “Tomari, I’m sure—”

“Did I do the right thing?” His voice wavered slightly, and the shoulder that Kiriko held trembled. “Would he...have wanted this after all?”

Tomari brought his hand, shaking, up, reaching to touch the flower’s petals. Before he could do so, a single petal broke off and wafted through the air, landing on the lifeless Type Speed. He jerked his hand away, and his sobs started up again, erratic and chaotic.

“I miss him.”

 


	2. WHAT Is the Virus Called?

“What do you even get a belt, anyway?”

Although it was a completely valid question, Shinnosuke Tomari gave Kiriko Shijima such a look that seemed incredulous. He leaned the chair he sat in further back, not quite to the point of tipping over, his foot against one of the columns in the Pit, opposite of the door. Kiriko sat on the other side, closer to Rinna, who tap, tap, tapped away endlessly at the keyboard (something about a “really, really sweet power-up” in her own words). While both of the officers had their work in front of them, only Kiriko worked on her own diligently.

Shinnosuke, on the other hand, plopped another milk candy into his mouth, staring off at the ceiling in lost wonder. “He’s not _just_ a belt,” he said, finally. “He’s _Mr_. Belt. There’s a difference.”

It was Kiriko’s turn to shoot Shinnosuke a look that seemed mildly incredulous. She huffed in supposed exasperation, shuffling around the papers in front of her to find the next one she needed. “I know that. It’s not a question about his _character_ , Tomari, but rather…” She thought for a moment, debating on whether or not this would ruin her partner’s world view. “It’s the fact that he’s… a belt. For all intents and purposes, he cannot make use of standard...human gifts at this time.”

A gasp so loud and the clacking of a few of the balls of candy dropping to the linoleum floor resounded throughout the room. Even Rinna paused her typing to look back at whatever barbaric statement Kiriko had just made. Shinnosuke actually almost did tip over, though with a loud _thump_ , the chair landed safely on all four legs once again. Kiriko remained unfazed.

“For instance, would you get him a bath set, Tomari?” she continued on in his daze. “He can’t bathe. Perhaps a pair of pants.” She smiled briefly, then it dropped from her face, and she wrote something down. “Maybe a tie, or candy, or a brand new apartment?” She finally looked up to lock eyes with Shinnosuke, who looked down almost as quick as the eye contact had been made.

He thought for a moment, reaching down with a small grunt to pick up the candies he had dropped. Juggling them all in his hand (really, they were only a few, but what a _waste_!), he sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted.

Even so, despite Mr. Belt not being able to make use of everyday ‘human’ items for pleasure or necessity, he did still want to get him something. The anniversary of Shinnosuke joining the SCU was coming up on them—in no less than three days, August 8th—and he wanted to make it special; joining the SCU would have meant nothing if Krim or Kiriko hadn’t been there. He already had Kiriko’s gift planned and mapped out. Although he had been giving this tons of thought, however, he couldn’t, for the life of him, think of what to do that would be special enough for Mr. Belt.

There were also those, ah, feelings to deal with. Shinnosuke was sure that Krim had noticed, even before Shinnosuke himself had noticed, and he only kept silent out of respect for the younger man. After all, he cared for Shinnosuke deeply, that much was evident with the way that Mr. Belt always yelled at him for rushing into danger. He remembered the time when he went after 001 and how furious Mr. Belt had been, up until the scientist finally gave way and fully trusted Shinnosuke. Trusted that he knew what he was doing and that everyone and everything would be alright. Things, obviously, didn’t go as planned, but…

Shinnosuke remembered vividly thinking at the time that he would live and die for Mr. Belt. When he was basically in cryogenics, although he couldn’t recall specifics, he did remember feeling a sense of ever-lasting warmth and several fuzzy words of supposed encouragement that kept his heart beating—that gave him the drive to keep living. Even though the circumstances were a little less than spectacular, every time they recreated that feeling together and Krim utilizes Shinnosuke’s body (always careful, very careful), Shinnosuke’s feelings only deepened.

He would still live and die for Mr. Belt, but that was the first time he became aware that he… felt something a little more than what could be called simple camaraderie towards this ‘piece of equipment’.

To him, Mr. Belt was alive.

That brief scare where 004 and Banno had stolen Krim still had him on edge. Which brought him to—

“...ri. Tomari!”

Just as Shinnosuke was willing himself back into the present, Kiriko had been trying to do the same. She had stood up and crossed the room, hands on her hips; as Shinnosuke looked up at her a little sheepishly, he finished pressing the milk candy that had been halfway to his mouth already in and tried not to quiver under the wrath of a stern and exasperated, yet caring, mother.

“... You’re eating the ones that you dropped to the floor,” she said, face red, as if she had been trying to get his attention for quite some time now.

It took Tomari a few minutes to register what she told him, and in his panic, he accidentally swallowed the one in his mouth whole. He choked on the candy, dropping the box to the floor, though thankfully, no more spilled out; Kiriko, alarmed, rested her hands on his back before giving a good smack and Tomari spilled the glass of water he had been reaching for all over the ground.

Truly, he thought, they were the best of partners. At least he was breathing now.

Kiriko huffed and they both stood, Shinnosuke snatching the box of candy from the floor and Kiriko grabbing one of the towels used for grease. She threw it at Shinnosuke, who looked at it for a moment before muttering something and getting down to his knees to clean up the water.

“Oh,” he paused in what he was doing as Kiriko went to sit back down to continue her work, “by the way, Miss Rinna.”

Rinna, by this time, had been fluttering around in her corner, sticking papers on the wall with tacks and mumbling to herself.

“Miss Rinna,” Shinnosuke patiently repeated, swabbing the floor once before pausing again.

“Huh? What?” She lifted the goggles up from her face, hair catching on the straps as she turned around too quickly. “What is it?”

“Did you, um…” He bit his lip, looking down at the soaked floor, trying to mop up the water just by sheer willpower. Kiriko shot him a look of concern, though he didn’t see. “Did you ever find out what… Banno,” the name was hard to say, and he finally looked back up to meet her gaze, “did to Mr. Belt?”

The scientist’s entire demeanor seemed to change over the course of a few very slow seconds. She plucked the strands of hair from the straps and pulled the goggles all the way off, breaking eye contact and turning half away. “Well…” She set the goggles on her desk, looking at the half a dozen sheets of paper clinging to the wall. Wringing her hands, she spoke softly. “Not… exactly. I still have to, like… do more tests. To figure out what to do with him.”

“What do you mean, ‘what to do with him’?” Shinnosuke asked, paced in his speech.

“It’s… complicated. There’s a problem that I haven’t figured out yet, but I will!” She faced him again, throwing up a peace sign. “Promise!”

Shinnosuke’s lips flattened into a thin line. Rinna never really was good at lying, and if she had to resort to this shoddy act in the first place, it meant things were really bad. But, still, he nodded at her, having full confidence that she’d be able to fix Mr. Belt no matter what. If anyone could reverse Banno’s programming, it’d be Rinna.

“Tomari!” gasped Kiriko, huffing and puffing again, face all red once more. She pointed at him almost furiously, yet somehow couldn’t figure out the words quick enough. “Your—Your pants are getting wet, Tomari! Hurry up and clean it!”

“Huh?” He blinked once or twice in shock, then, of course, did feel the wetness seeping in through the fabric and staining his knees. “Ah!” He shuffled away hurriedly. “Ah, ah, ah, ah—” Slipping in the water, he fell backwards, slamming his back against floor—soaking his shirt now, too.

He decided today was not his day.

* * *

By the time they finished cleaning the floor (Kiriko actually did it, as Shinnosuke started complaining about _back pains_ and thus, only sat around and held the damp towels), the sun had started to set. Kiriko gathered up all the towels and Shinnosuke’s shirt (she _refused_ to take his pants) into her arms, saying something about going to go make Gou do the laundry and leaving.

Shinnosuke gingerly lay back on the small sofa, breath hissing between his teeth. Despite what Kiriko had claimed, that he was only complaining to get out of cleaning up _his_ mess, that fall did actually hurt a bit. He rested his head against the tiny cushion, staring up at the ceiling.

“Miss Rinna.”

Although she had slowed down considerably and actually sat down, her quick typing came to a halt at her name.

Shinnosuke continued on after waiting for a moment when she didn’t answer. “Is it… bad?”

“... Is what bad?”

“Mr. Belt. His condition. What’s wrong with him?”

He could hear an audible gulp—Rinna being nervous about this only made him more nervous. But she’d be able to do it. She could do anything. He was sure of it.

“He has… a… virus, I guess. It’s like one. There really isn’t a specific type, but it’s close enough to a direct action virus. But it also has qualities of a resident—” She paused, shuffled some papers around. “Yeah. It’s like a combination. I’ve… never seen anything like it before at all.”

Shinnosuke closed his eyes, sick of watching the lights. “So… what you’re saying is, it’ll be hard to get rid of it?”  

“Precisely.” She sounded tired, and it only made him more tired. She went back to clicking on her keyboard.

“What does it do?” asked Shinnosuke after a period of time.

“I’m—”

“ _Shinnosuke!_ ” The loudspeaker in the Pit crackled to life and the man in question sat up, nearly hitting his head on the low hang ceiling. “ _There’s a Roidmude! Quick—I’ll meet you outside._ ” Krim’s voice faded, ringing a little through the area.

“Yeah, yeah, _coooming_ , your highness.” He stood, grabbed his jacket, and waved goodbye to Rinna, who didn’t seem to notice him leaving at all.

* * *

Honganji leaned against the Tridoron, patting Krim’s face, perking up when he saw Shinnosuke approaching.

“Ah, you’re here, here here, Tomari.” The Chief handed the belt to Shinnosuke and had the audacity to wink at the lower ranked officer; Shinnosuke’s face flushed, covering Mr. Belt’s screen with one hand. “I heard it’s a nasty one, so be careful, would you? I’ll keep on thinking for ya, too.”

Shinnosuke watched the Chief’s figure disappear behind the glass doors of the office and finally removed his hand, heaving a deep sigh. Before Mr. Belt could ask anything, he opened the door to the Tridoron and slipped inside, packing the belt snugly into his spot on the dashboard. As he shut the door and put on his seatbelt, the engine roared to life, and as soon as he was fully buckled in, it drove.

Staring out the window, the officer couldn’t shake Rinna’s words, which drilled themselves into his very core. Would Mr. Belt really be okay? Rinna was Rinna, he kept repeating to himself in his head, and Rinna would fix this.

“Shinnosuke.”

He startled, whipping his head to look at said belt. “Ah—I mean, yes?”

Krim’s screen flickered to an unimpressed face. “Are you alright? Your pulse is abnormally high and—and, just where is your sh—?!”

“It got wet!” Shinnosuke may have said that a little louder than he had intended. “I… spilled some water on it, okay. Kiriko is cleaning it. Or Gou. Someone is, that’s what matters, okay? And I’m fine,” his voice squeaked, as it was wont to do when he was lying to Mr. Belt, “perfectly fine. How about you? Are _you_ fine?”

“M-Me?!” the Driver sputtered, face reflecting the surprise. “I’m, I’m fine, Shinnosuke.” Strained pauses on both ends, with both of them turned away, looking out the opposite windows. Shinnosuke shifted a bit, wincing at the small pain that resulted from the small movements, and Krim took notice, turning back to him.

“Are you sure you are alright, Shinnosuke? I need you to be in top gear.” He tried on a smile, to see if that would get Shinnosuke to talk.

“I just fell. I’m fine. I’m in top gear already. The Roidmude, right?” Realization slowly dawned on him. “Hey, aren’t we taking a little long to get to the site?”

The Tridoron screeched to a halt, and Shinnosuke’s hands flew to the steering wheel to brace himself.

“H-Hey! What are you—?!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Mr. Belt concluded, eyes drooping closed once more. “I seemed to have taken a wrong turn.”

“Agh, c’mon, Mr. Belt…”

He never took wrong turns. He’d have to tell Rinna about this. Maybe she needed to observe him more. Shinnosuke really shouldn’t have given Mr. Belt to Honganji to keep pre-occupied while he was supposedly shopping for a gift… He’d have to take this Roidmude out faster than Gou would and get back soon.

At least there were no more wrong turns. They arrived quickly on the scene, which looked like a tornado passed through—Shinnosuke snorted at the thought—a convenience store on the corner of the street. From what he could see as he jumped out of the car and buckled Mr. Belt around his waist, the Roidmude was inside the store, rummaging through things as if it were a common thief.

“Let’s go, Mr. Belt.” Shinnosuke twisted the end of the Type Speed car, placing it in the brace.

“OK, _start your engine_!”

“Transform!” He swung the lever, and the armor fell into place.

“ _DRIVE! TYPE: SPEED!_ ”

Drive rushed into the store, checking on those that had fallen to make sure they’d be alright for now. The cashier still stood behind the counter, seemingly too scared to really move, her hands shaking as she clutched them in front of herself. Shinnosuke held up a comforting hand to her, telling her to wait right there, as he approached the Roidmude.

“Where is it… Where…!” The Bat pulled everything off a particular shelf, growing frustrated when it didn’t find what it wanted and letting out a growl.

Shinnosuke couldn’t get a clear look of its number, but that didn’t matter just yet. He cautiously stepped over a few loaves of bread, hoping that the monster wouldn’t notice his approach—unfortunately, that was to no avail, as his back pain reared its ugly head again as he took a wrong step, and he reached out to clutch onto an already emptied shelf rather loudly.

“Sh-Shinnosuke…!”

The Roidmude spun on its heels, eyed Drive up, and flung itself at him. Shinnosuke let go of the shelf and held his hands up in defense, catchings its wrists and trying to wrestle it away—or at least out of the store. He let one hand drop so he could call Door-Gun, shooting at the Roidmude to put some distance in between them.

“Stop!”

And Shinnosuke did.

“Stop…” The Roidmude pleaded. “I have… I have to find the… for my sister!”

Was this one acting in place of the person it copied? Shinnosuke hesitated, waiting to hear it out, and Krim grumbled from his waist.

“Shinnosuke, what are you waiting for? You have it cornered!”

“But its sist…” he began, abruptly cut off when the Roidmude came at him again. He fired a few more shots and backed out of the store, thankful when it followed him. By the time they were out in the open, the people who had been injured had been moved by passers-by, which relieved Shinnosuke. At least now they could fight, even though he’d rather not.

“Hey, hey, c’mon, calm down for a minute!”

“I have to find it! I have to take it to her!” The Roidmude picked up a plastic chair and threw it with incredible power at Shinnosuke, who barely managed to dodge to the side.

“What is… What is it you want? Just stop—Agh, just stop throwing things!” He dodged another chair, rolling to the side and resting on his knees. His back would kill him if this Roidmude didn’t first, he thought, grabbing at his back to try and alleviate some of the pain.

Much to his pleasant surprise, though, the Roidmude stopped its attacks, hesitating before shifting into its disguise—a man no older than Shinnosuke himself. Perhaps the most memorable things about him were the longer, wispy hair and the vibrant graphic-print t-shirt. The pained look on his face was what Shinnosuke took notice of first, however.

“Hiyori… I have to get the… medicine, for my sister.”

Drive slowly stood, wary as always. “Medicine? What kind?”

“Shinnosuke! Stop bargaining with him!” Mr. Belt jostled around.

But, of course, the officer didn’t listen to him. Still holding the Door-Gun just in case the Roidmude went berserk on him again, he approached him slowly, arms out in such a way that would promote peace.

“What kind of medicine?” he repeated very calmly, and the Roidmude slowly met his gaze.

“I… I don’t know.” His pained expression only grew deeper, shadows casting themselves over various curves of his face.

“What’s your sis—”

“Shinnosuke!” Krim sounded furious, and that was enough to agitate the Roidmude, who shifted out of its disguise and landed a nice punch on its enemy, sending Drive flying backwards into a tree.

As soon as Shinnosuke recovered, he looked back up, but the Roidmude was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath and slumped against the tree, disabling the transformation. His chest rose and fell heavily, and pain shot down his back and into his legs and arms.

“Mr. Belt…” he whined, glancing down at the Driver around his waist and grabbing at him with both hands. “What was—Mr. Belt?”

The screen seemed glitched, with only bits and pieces, similar to a puzzle piece, showing up. The pain in his back was quickly swapped out with anxiety and worry in his chest, and he leaned forward, yanking Mr. Belt off to get a better look at him.

“Mr. Belt!”

And, just like that, the glitch ended, a frustrated emote replacing the broken-looking bits. “S… Sorry.”

“Are you alright? What came over you?” The worry was laden in his voice, unable to hide it. “I almost had him cooperating.”

“I’m not quite sure myself, Shinnosuke. … Are you hurt, more importantly?”

Shinnosuke just offered a small smile, standing up, holding Mr. Belt close to his chest. “I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re both fine.”

Rinna said he’d be fine.

“Let’s go find the Roidmude, okay?”

He had a bad feeling about this.

 


End file.
